NORTHBOROUGH – As she posed for a photo opposite her mother Friday – her back to the camera, the word "survivor" etched on her neon green shirt – Lauren Vulcano put on her goofiest smile and opened her green eyes wide.

"Don’t laugh," the 25-year-old chided, her smile only growing as her mother started to crack. "This is serious, Mom."

Such lighthearted ribbing is one of Vulcano’s trademarks – a talkative, bubbly person, she often fills the silence others create.

For much of the last year, though, it was Vulcano who turned silent, her thoughts dominated by the dreadful memory that the ever-present ringing in her ear wouldn’t let her forget: The Marathon.

The 2007 Algonquin Regional High School grad was less than 10 feet from the first bomb that exploded near the finish line last April 15, sending ball bearings and shrapnel flying toward where she and her boyfriend had been standing.

One year, three surgeries and countless panic attacks later, Vulcano isn’t fully recovered. Her ear still rings. She may need another surgery. And the memories – the blood on the ground, the smoke in the air – sometimes still come flooding back.

But that’s not stopping her today.

This morning, despite stress fractures in both her feet, Vulcano will step off from Hopkinton with her mother to walk the 118th Boston Marathon.

"I want to move forward," Lauren said as her mother, Michele, nodded. "It’s going to take like a whole school day, but I’m determined to cross the finish line."

It’s something she never imagined herself saying last April.

"Who’s going to shoot at me?" Vulcano remembered thinking last year as chaos unfolded around her. When she reached a medical tent, she saw a lot of traumatic scenes, including what she later found out was the body of Krystle Campbell - one of three people killed in the blasts - being wheeled inside.

After waking up in the hospital next to her boyfriend Mark - whose leg was injured but has since healed - Vulcano vowed to not let what happened knock her life off course.

She kept on taking graduate courses in school counseling at Assumption College, where her neurology professor warned her she’d likely soon be facing post-traumatic stress disorder.

In early June, just before her first surgery, Vulcano had her first panic attack when an ambulance raced by her boyfriend’s home in South Boston.

"I dropped to the ground and started crying," she said. "I couldn’t get up."

The sound of that siren, Vulcano learned, was one of many "triggers" that led her to have flashbacks to the day of the Marathon.

As time went on, Vulcano discovered other triggers: large crowds, loud noises, even fourth graders leaving backpacks in a hallway at the Neary School in Southborough where she interns. Often, the triggers brought on panic attacks that made it difficult to breathe.

Page 2 of 3 - Making matters worse, doctors discovered the ball bearing that entered her ear – one of 72 that struck her body – had broken a bone before bouncing off her cochlea, part of her inner ear.

Not only was the ringing in her ear a constant annoyance, it also caused her pain, especially when she tried to chew following her surgery.

Vulcano lost 25 pounds over the summer, and often curled up into a ball and cried. Never one to take pills for pain, she ended up quitting the medications her doctors gave her because she didn’t want to feel reliant on them.

Then one day, Vulcano decided to overcome her fears in the most direct way possible - by seeking them out.

"I forced myself to keep exposing myself to trigger after trigger," she said. "I went down to the finish line (many times) to show myself, ‘You can be there and nothing can happen.’"

Vulcano went to Red Sox games and loud concerts with friends, each time forcing herself to confront her triggers of crowds and loud noises.

Then, around Thanksgiving, Vulcano learned all those compensated by the One Fund would be given two bibs to run in today’s race.

"I had always wanted to run," Michele Vulcano said, so she encouraged her daughter to run with her as a way to heal.

Although she was initially skeptical, Lauren warmed to the idea, especially after attending training sessions on Saturday in Newton with other survivors.

"It was so inspiring," she said, adding she feels lucky she wasn’t more severely injured.

Michele Vulcano said she noticed her daughter getting back to her old self after she began training for the race.

"Emotionally, I think I’m back to being as normal as normal can be," Lauren said, bashfully relating her antics during a recent cover photo shoot for Sports Illustrated.

Though the cover features thousands of people, Vulcano can be picked out fairly easily. She’s the only person giving moose ears to the stranger in front of her.

"I felt awful," Vulcano said, noting she got restless after the magazine kept taking picture after picture for more than an hour. "I can’t believe that’s the photo they ended up using."

Her photo faux pas aside, Vulcano is poised for a breakout year. True to her word, she never stopped taking classes, and next month, she’ll graduate a semester early with a dual license in school counseling and social work.

"People say, 'You don’t have to do this.' And I say, but I will," Vulcano said.

Page 3 of 3 - Vulcano said though the buildup to the Marathon has been difficult, she has enjoyed meeting other survivors and even found the EMT who first took care of her after the bombs went off.

"It’s so nice to finally meet those people," she said. "The number of (survivors) they individually touched the lives of is just so grand."

Vulcano said the goodwill of all those around the country and the world has strengthened her resolve to walk the Marathon despite a new setback.

Both she and her mom suffered training injuries in January, and Vulcano has a stress fracture in each foot.

"I was like, ‘Can’t I just tape them up or something?" she said.

Vulcano said she intends to make it to the finish line no matter what - even if she needs a little vehicle-assisted help along the way.

"I think it’s a great metaphor for the long journey I had to take," Vulcano said – a journey in which she emerged stronger than before.

"I can do anything. I know I can do anything. I’m Superwoman," Vulcano said. "Don’t tell me I can’t, because I will. And I’m going to."

Brad Petrishen can be reached at 508-490-7463 or bpetrishen@wickedlocal.com. Follow him on Twitter @BPetrishen_MWDN.